


Silver Wishes

by HawkSong



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Memories, Near Future, Sentimental, Snow, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:53:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28229451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawkSong/pseuds/HawkSong
Summary: Ishgard is having a Winter Festival. Berylla, Alphinaud, and Alisaie go to enjoy an evening at the Grand Snow Gardens.
Relationships: Alisaie Leveilleur & Warrior of Light, Alphinaud Leveilleur & Warrior of Light
Comments: 8
Kudos: 11
Collections: Bookclub Winter Fic Exchange 2020





	Silver Wishes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MoF10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoF10/gifts).



> I'm placing this in a time "some months" after the events of 5.3 (I'm not incorporating 5.4 in this fic).  
> Berylla, Alphinaud, and Alisaie are in a very tightly knit friendship but there is not smut in this fic.

Alphinaud stepped out onto the newly-made path and crossed his arms, surveying the scene with a wide smile. His sister stepped up beside him, hands on her hips as she, too, took in the colorful sight before them.

The snowfields outside of Falcon's Nest had been utterly transformed.

The people of the town had not fought very hard against the smaller monsters out here; so long as the threats were minor, the patrols simply kept the roads clear and left it at that. The climate was far too harsh to allow for farming, so why bother?

But for this little time, in what would hopefully remain an annual effort, the strength of dragon and man had come together to create and maintain a cleared space, with palisade walls, encompassing a bit more than a square mile – hundreds of acres of snow, with a small section of the frozen-solid river winding through.

In this space, a Grand Snow Garden had grown. Hundreds of artists, somewhat united under the guidance of G'raha Tia and Nightbird Kevala, had performed a not so minor miracle with this endeavor. The merchants of the Crozier and the Firmament had set up little booths; the Limsan Culinarians' Guild had generously brought in foodstuffs and the people to prepare food so that none who attended this festival would be cold or hungry. All of those were lined up closest to the town, making for a kind of street that led to the rest of the Garden, full of color and light and cheerful faces.

The orphans of every city had been brought to Falcon's Nest and put up in the barracks for a night: scores of children scampered about, and happy shrieks and laughter echoed across the cold air to the twins. Alisaie smiled over at her brother.

On the eastern side of the space, right against the barrier intended to keep folk away from the dangerous cliff edge, an enormous Ice Palace stood, looking a great deal like the Crystal Tower in silhouette – surely G'raha Tia had had some say in the design there. But it was truly wondrous, for magical lights were suspended within the ice, giving the entire structure an enchanted – and enchanting – aspect.

Across from that, on the western side up against the palisade, a sprawling snow fortress rose, complete with battlements, ramps, a pair of towers, and all the colorful banners any child could wish. Adults and children alike played there, sliding down the many ice-slides, throwing snowballs, and generally romping.

In between, every tree that grew had been festooned with tinsel and little lanterns, and more lanterns had been strung on ropes and poles, creating such a flood of light that despite the evening hour, the snow glowed, golden and seemingly warm. Statues and sculptures large and small populated the spaces between the trees, a fantastical menagerie. All over the place were smaller statues – snow knights, and snow dragons too, many of them also draped with evergreens or tinsel. The smallest statues were clearly the efforts of the children, but they were given just as much admiration as the more professional creations.

Alphinaud's eyes twinkled as he touched Alisaie's arm to get her attention. When he pointed to the enormous ice-and-snow Porxie (the sculpture set up so that small children could play on and around it), she laughed aloud.

Berylla came up behind the two of them and let out a low whistle of amazement. “Aymeric said it was impressive, but I didn't have any idea what to expect...wow.”

“Indeed.” Alphinaud smiled over at her. “What shall we do, then? Nightbird's concert is not for an hour or so.”

“Aymeric mentioned sleigh rides...”

“Yes, I think I see where we go to procure one,” Alisaie said, pointing.

Berylla's cheeks were a bit rosy. The big Roe had never been bothered by cold; both the twins grinned, knowing she was blushing. “I admit I've never ridden in a sleigh before, it sounds like a lot of fun,” the Warrior of Light managed. She smiled back at her beloved friends, the shy smile that she reserved only for them.

Both twins linked their arms with hers. Alphinaud's voice rippled with amusement. “Then let us go and enjoy a sleigh ride.”

They did not hurry their steps, pausing for hot cider at one booth, greeting a few folks Berylla knew from the Culinarian's Guild, stopping to admire this statue or that. Even the walking paths had been ornamented with little “fences” of colorful string and peeled branches. Just after the line of food booths ended, a clear space had been made, the snow scraped flat and pounded into a firm surface. At the head of that space, a massive archway of snow had been built; it wasn't clear how the structure stayed upright and intact, but it was quite solid, for even as they looked on, one of the sleighs passed by. The sleigh was drawn by a pair of relatively burly chocobos, who looked very pleased with themselves, and quite festive too, in their red coats and jaunty knit caps. Despite being a good ten yards away, the three Scions could hear the birds trilling and whistling to each other, and the _flumph_ of their feet against the snow, and a faint hint of jingling.

When they reached the pair of red-and-white painted posts that marked the beginning of the sleigh ride, there was a short line of other people waiting. There were, it seemed, three sleighs to be had. One paid over a pair of coins, got in – the driver tucked furs around the passengers – and then the sleigh moved off. As they watched, two of the sleighs arrived, letting off one set of passengers and picking up another.

Then, they were next in the line. Berylla's mouth opened as she saw the third sleigh approaching.

_“Guys, guys, guys, look!”_

Alisaie laughed quietly at the child-like excitement in the tall warrior's voice. “It isn't as if you have never seen horses before, Berylla.”

“Yeah, but not horses like those! Where on earth did they find them, do you think?”

The attendant – a very jovial older Elezen – heard her, and laughed quietly. “House Dzemael has bred horses for many generations,” he told them. “Their herds were of course decimated in the Calamity. These fine fellows are among the first animals the family has been able to rear and train.”

“They're gorgeous,” Berylla said, her eyes shining. “And _huge_.”

Huge indeed – where many of the riding horses the three Scions had seen over the years were proportioned to allow Hyur and Elezen relatively comfortable rides, they had seemed very delicate anytime Berylla had been in the saddle. These beasts were thick boned, taller than any horse or chocobo by a head or more, with broad backs that rippled with muscles. It was plain that just one of them could have easily drawn the sleigh, and they quite dwarfed Berylla in height. Their brown eyes shone with a gentle good humor. Their feet were covered in thick white “feathering” and their manes and tails had been braided up with ribbon – one in red, the other in green.

They brought the sleigh to a neat stop, and waited patiently, breath blowing great clouds of fog, as the three passengers in the sleigh disembarked. Then, the attendant gestured to the Scions.

With a smile, Alisaie got in first; Berylla took the center place, and Alphinaud clambered up last and settled himself beside the warrior. The driver spread a thick fur blanket across their laps, tucking it down on the sides with practiced motions, and then he took up his seat, and cracked his whip – a purely theatrical gesture, as the whip came nowhere near the horses.

With a jolt, they were in motion. Little bells strung all along the horses' harness began to jingle with every step. Beneath the lap rug, Alphinaud's hand found Berylla's. Then, Alisaie tucked her arm through the warrior's.

The sleigh was not going terribly fast, but the pace was brisk enough to ruffle Berylla's hair a little. A track had been marked out with small sticks of painted wood, and they saw at once how the sleigh's path did not intersect with any of the foot paths.

The horses picked up pace just a bit as they headed straight for the snow “bridge” at the front of the Gardens. Berylla's hand tightened on Alphinaud's for an instant as they swooshed up and across the arch of the bridge – not that far a distance, but the little hill gave them a thrill all out of proportion to its size. Berylla chortled as they swooped down the other side.

“Oh, now, that's quite nice,” Alphinaud said, pointing with his free hand. Built into and onto the cliffs just outside the town was a gargantuan statue, of Hraesvelgr – rearing up, wings wide as if holding the cliff back – and Vidofnir, neck arched proudly and wings swept back.

“It is. They must have started work on that before everything else.”

Alisaie tugged on Berylla's arm, directing her attention to the other side of the path. They both smiled as they saw an open pavilion in House Fortemps colors, and the veritable herd of snow-unicorns, “running” past it as if they meant to charge towards the snow fortress.

Then the first tower of the snow fortress came into view, and all three of them smiled. As they passed, a half-dozen Temple Knights lost a snowball fight to a small swarm of youngsters. The kids celebrated their victory by demanding piggy-back rides, and as the sleigh carried the Scions out of earshot, shrieks of delighted laughter were beginning to ring out.

Another large ice-sculpture stood on the other side of the Fortemps pavilion, and Berylla chuckled once more, shaking her head. Well she recalled her battle against the Yeti, years ago now, when she had cleared out Snowcloak. The creature looked much more comical as a snow figure, surrounded by spriggans, than it had when she was battling it.

“It's weird to realize how much has happened since I met you two,” she said. “How much has changed.”

“Aye.” Alisaie nodded. “I wouldn't recognize my old self, I think.”

“I should hope that we have changed for the better,” Alphinaud remarked.

“Well, I think so, but I'm probably biased.” Berylla grinned. “I bet Estinien would give you an unvarnished opinion or two if you asked him.”

The scholar rolled his eyes. “No, thank you.”

The sleigh carried them past the snow fortress, and past the very imposing looking Durendaire pavilion, which seemed to be set up just as it would be on a battlefield, with a command table and other war-like things on display. There were still a good number of bright eyed children examining the place, listening to an old, grizzled knight.

Then the path was rising once more, coasting up along a kind of berm of snow, and they could see out over another row of brightly decorated booths. Alisaie leaned forward a little, peering. “Oh! They've set up games as well?”

“Do you really need _another_ stuffed animal?”

“Of course!”

Alphinaud sighed, but then smiled at his sister.

Then the sleigh swerved, somewhat dramatically, and all three of them clutched at each other for an instant. But the horses were calm, and as they cantered down along another “bridge” of snow, and Berylla loosed her fingers from Alphinaud's with a nervous chuckle.

This time, their path took them alongside the Dzemael pavilion – it was now obvious that all four Houses had made up some sort of display, but the pavilions had not been visible from the entrance.

The Dzemael tent was brilliant scarlet, vivid against the white snow. The three Scions could see quite a glittering array of ornaments hanging inside the tent. But the twins blinked to see the Lord of the House, himself, directing a group of small children in making little, homely ornaments out of twigs and brightly colored yarn. The old man's face was serene and patient as he corrected one child and praised another.

Then they were past the pavilion, and Alphinaud shook his head. “Well. Starlight miracles do happen.”

Berylla smiled quietly, recalling well when the particular 'miracle' of Lord Dzemael finding a little warmth in his heart had truly taken place.

Alisaie drew in a quick breath, and both the warrior and the scholar looked over to see what had drawn her attention. The Haillenarte pavilion was in view now, and the sleigh's path was taking them in a loop almost all the way around it. A fantastical garden of silk foliage and flowers seemed to spring from the walls of their tent, but a particular swathe seemed to have arrested Alisaie's eye.

“Oh,” the red mage breathed. “They're _blue_ roses...”

Berylla looked at Alisaie, then over at Alphinaud. She frowned slightly. Both of them had a far look, unfocused, as if they no longer saw what was in front of them.

“Hey, what's wrong?”

“I...will tell you a little later.” Alphinaud swallowed, and gave her a small reassuring smile. “I promise.”

Then his hand slipped free of Berylla's long enough to reach over and pat Alisaie's hand. In response, Alisaie leaned into Berylla's shoulder, and she grasped her brother's hand tightly for just a moment.

Soon enough they were past the flowers and coasting along, once more approaching the crested berm. This time, at the top of that rise, they got a good look at the amphitheater where Nightbird would soon be leading an hour or two of singing.

By that point, the twins were sitting up again, both of them holding Berylla's hands now. Their smiles were quieter, but they seemed to be firmly back in the moment.

The sleigh began to slow down as the horses went from a canter to a walk, then to an amble. Their path led them along the front of the gigantic Ice Palace, and all three of the Scions tilted their heads up to observe the soaring spire in the middle.

“I think G'raha misses the Tower just a tiny bit,” Berylla smiled.

“Perhaps,” Alisaie answered. “He certainly did not stint on using his magic to make the place look amazing. I've never seen so many mage-lights in one place.”

In just a minute more, they were pulling up to the painted posts where they had begun, and alighting from the sleigh.

“Fancy a snowball fight?” Berylla asked Alisaie, but the Elezen shook her head, smiling. “I think I'm in the mood for one of those games.”

“Of course,” but Alphinaud was grinning. The three of them started walking.

“So what was with the roses?” Berylla asked, as they entered a kind of “tunnel” in the snow – cleverly shored up and quite well lit with more of the colorful magic lanterns. There were no other holiday-makers on this part of the path, and she saw Alisaie and Alphinaud exchange a quick glance before the scholar answered.

“Our mother is very fond of roses,” he began. “Our father caused a specific cultivar of blue rose to be created, especially for her. It was his betrothal gift, you see.”

“And when we were born,” Alisaie added, “we, too, were given roses, in keeping with mother's family's traditions.”

“Oh.” Berylla touched the red mage on the shoulder. “So you were kind of homesick, huh?”

“I certainly did not expect to see blue roses anywhere in Eorzea.” Alisaie shook her head. “It was simply a surprise. I have not thought about our parents in...quite some time.”

“Well, duh,” Berylla replied. “You've only been busy fighting primals that shouldn't have even been functioning, and nearly getting yourself killed, and generally saving the world. It's a busy life we Scions lead.”

Alisaie stared at her for a moment, then began to laugh – laughter that turned suddenly to sniffles.

Alphinaud wrapped his sister in a hug, and Berylla added her own embrace as well. Alisaie only wept for a moment or two before managing to collect herself once more.

She squeezed Alphinaud's shoulders, and leaned into Berylla for one moment more.

“Thank you.”

“It's what we're here for, love.”

They moved apart, and continued walking.

Berylla thought to herself, as she watched her dearest friends, that they had changed the most out of all the Scions. Not just physically – both of them now challenged her for height – but in all ways. A year ago, Alisaie would have rather had her nails pulled out than let anyone but Alphinaud see her cry. And Alphinaud might still have been struggling to accept that Berylla wasn't someone he could keep all to himself.

After all the hell they'd gone through – after all the fear and pain and doubt – their bond was stronger than ever, their faith in each other almost unshakable. She was glad all over again that she had not gotten away from them, back on the First. That they had not let her flee, had not let her turn, had not left her alone.

Then they were out of the tunnel and back under the brighter lights, and her pensive thoughts were banished in the even brighter glow of Alisaie's smile.

“Why am I hauling the dragon, again?”

“Because he's too big for me to see around him,” Alisaie answered. Berylla grunted softly.

“One wonders if the artisan who created this actually consulted Hraesvelgr about the matter,” Alphinaud observed, his voice dry. Berylla peered around the wing that was in her face, and saw how mischievous his smile was. Then again, _he_ was only toting a pair of absolutely adorable toy carbuncles. Berylla was the one stuck hauling the ludicrously huge stuffed-toy version of Hraesvelgr, that was fully seven feet long from its tail to its nose. The thing was not terribly much like the original – Hraesvelgr had never had an adorable face and a big goofy grin. But Alisaie had been determined to win it and had insisted on staying put at the “firing range” game until she'd racked up the points for the thing.

She was carrying two more stuffed-toy animals – one a very fluffy, fat chocobo, the other a much-too-accurate moogle.

“So where are you going to stash all this loot, Alisaie?” Berylla asked. “We can't exactly have them in the seats with us at the amphitheater.”

“We just have to get over to the Ice Palace,” she answered lightly. “I've someone waiting there to take care of them.”

“Alisaie, this is not the sort of thing we were meant to ask of Father's retainers...”

“So? They've had nothing to do for nigh on a year!” Alisaie grinned. “I'm sure they're terribly bored, and anyway they've had ample time to enjoy the festival. Some of them were even in attendance for your little performance yesterday.”

Alphinaud blushed, but it was a pleased blush. Berylla smiled. “I meant to ask you where you learned to do that. I can't even stand up on skis, but I'm a sea rat. No snow in Limsa!”

“Oh,” Alphinaud shrugged. “Estinien showed me, years ago, our first Starlight in Ishgard.”

“Was that why he was so put out when you won that race and he didn't?”

Both of them laughed, and Berylla grinned widely.

She felt so good, to see the two of them smiling and laughing, without a care in the world. _We have all carried too much for too long. We needed this_ , she thought to herself.

The singing had concluded, and the three of them had wandered towards the Ice Palace again, waiting for their friends, so that all of them might return on the same airship. There had been talk of one more round of mulled cider, or perhaps hot cocoa, before bidding each other good night.

But first, Nightbird had a few more things to d; and so they waited. Berylla felt Alphinaud take her hand again, and then felt Alisaie on her other side, doing the same. They all tipped their heads back, looking up at the sky, strewn with stars as always.

Berylla's breath caught as a bright smear of silver light blazed across the sky for an instant.

“A shooting star,” she breathed, recalling how she had sat with Moenbryda, so long ago now, under a summer sky.

 _Moenbryda would have loved this festival_ , she thought. _Hells, even an Ascian would enjoy this_.

For an instant her eyes burned, a stab of grief for all those she had lost, despite all her striving.

“In Sharlayan, they say that one should wish upon such stars,” Alphinaud mused. His fingers tightened on hers. “Have you any wishes, Berylla?”

She did not hesitate in her answer.

“Just one.”

“Oh? What do you wish for?”

“For us all to be around in a year. For both of you to still be this happy, still able to laugh. For you both to still be beside me.”

Alisaie leaned into the warrior, arms sliding around her waist. “We promised, didn't we?”

Alphinaud's arm went around her shoulder. “Together, or not at all.”

She pressed them closer, hugging them tight. “I love you both, so much. Happy Starlight.”

**Author's Note:**

> A very happy Starlight to everyone!


End file.
